


The Time Being

by CatFlorist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blank Period, During Canon, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife, Light Angst, Post-Canon, SasuSaku - Freeform, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatFlorist/pseuds/CatFlorist
Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 283
Kudos: 479





	1. slipping

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins in the canon-verse and continues into the Blank Period and beyond. It is complete and has 8 chapters. I will update once a week. I hope you follow along!

**pt 1: slipping**

* * *

By the southern tip of Fire country, Sakura dropped her bags once she spotted two colossal rock formations jutting out of the ocean. Wood erupted from the ground, shaping itself the way she wanted. By sunset, a one-roomed house with big windows stood on the beach.

Days bled into one another. Sakura gathered stones to lay a path and explored the tide pools. Her cat, Hime, claimed a sunny patch on the kitchen counter as her own. The salt and humidity in the air curled the ends of her long hair. From her bed in the loft, Sakura watched waves crash against the rock formations, the giants resting in the surf. 

It was not long before he appeared. He arrived in the normal way, materializing from particles of air.

.

. 

On the eve of Sasuke’s seventh birthday, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he was half-asleep in bed. On the other end, he was standing in a bright kitchen as a tingle faded from his fingers.

A woman swooped into the room. Her eyes brightened. “Hello there,” she said, placing a hand on her pregnant belly. 

Sasuke’s mouth opened, scrambling to explain his presence. He did not want to scare her, especially if she was having a baby. But the woman’s brow remained smooth and unworried, like she was expecting him.

That’s how Sasuke knew he was dreaming.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“People can’t eat in dreams,” he scoffed.

She crossed her arms. “Why not?”

Sasuke shifted on his bare feet and shrugged. He didn’t know enough about dreams to argue his case, and she was clearly a dream creature. Her hair was odd—pink like springtime flowers—and her eyes were too green to be real.

The woman placed a bowl on the table, and he took a seat. She served a breakfast of miso soup, rice, and grilled fish. Sasuke’s stomach growled at the smell.

“Am I still in Konoha?” Sasuke asked as he ate. The view from the window looked familiar, but greener, somehow.

The woman touched a finger to her chin. “Yes. But not the Konoha you know.”

Sasuke nodded. It was a dream, after all. “What will your baby’s name be?” 

“Sarada,” she said, then her eyebrows shot up.

“What is it?”

The woman pressed a palm to her stomach. “She just kicked. Would you like to feel?” 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again. Chopsticks slipped from his grip. He frowned at his hands.

“Looks like you’re going, Sasuke-kun,” the woman said.

Sasuke had not told her his name, but her knowing did not startle him. He offered her a smile, but he was back in his bed. He drifted asleep. 

In the kitchen the next morning, his mother stifled a knowing look and set a fish on the counter. “Good morning. Will you help with the rice?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, but he measured and rinsed the rice like she had taught him.

Mikoto stopped halfway through deboning the fish. “Why’s that? Are you feeling sick?”

“I ate in my dream,” Sasuke mumbled, feeling foolish. He set the rice over the stovetop—he was tall enough to reach now. 

“Sounds like a pleasant dream,” Itachi said from behind. Sasuke turned. His brother leaned down to tap his forehead, wearing the smile he reserved only for Sasuke. 

Mikoto produced a plate of freshly-sliced tomatoes. “Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun.”

.

.

“Ichiraku’s?” Naruto begged, as Team Seven crossed the gate into Konoha. The setting sun bathed the village in a warm glow. After weeks of traveling, the noise of sizzling street food, wooden carts rolling over stone paths, and distant shouts overwhelmed Sasuke’s ears.

“I’m pretty tired,” Sakura said, hopping to adjust the weight of her travel pack. The three teammates all wore dirt, grime, and rumpled bandages as marks of their recent mission.

“It’ll be on me!” Naruto patted various pockets for his frog wallet and frowned at its contents. “Hey, sensei, can I borrow some money?”

Kakashi turned to face his three students. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What a shame—I don’t have my wallet on me. I’ll leave you to it.” Beneath his mask, his expression grew serious. “Good work, you three. Take the week off.”

Kakashi’s praise was hard won, and this time, well deserved. Team Seven’s assignment in the Land of Waves—their first serious mission as a team—had not gone according to plan.

Naruto spoke again, but Sasuke did not hear him. He was returning from this mission with two things: a newly-awakened bloodline trait and a near-death experience. He rubbed his forearm, dispelling phantom pricks from the memory of Haku’s senbon. 

“…so tomorrow, then?” Naruto said, drawing Sasuke back to the present.

Sakura blinked, dropping her eyes from Sasuke’s face. “What’s that?”

“Tomorrow we’ll train like normal. Kakashi-sensei said that’s fine!” Naruto said, pointing to Kakashi’s retreating form. 

“Great. Thanks, Naruto,” Sakura chided.

In solidarity with Sakura, Sasuke rolled his eyes, but he was not displeased with the change in plans. He liked training. He was used to his teammates.

“Yeah, no problem!” Naruto flashed his teeth. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Shouldn’t we drop off our stuff first?” Sakura asked.

“But I’m starving,” Naruto wailed.

“You don’t have any money,” she pointed out.

Sasuke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s just go,” he mumbled. 

Naruto’s eyes widened. He gripped his teammate’s shoulders. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Sasuke scowled and shrugged away Naruto’s hands.

“Can I _please_ get an extra egg with my order? Please please please?”

Naruto ordered two extra eggs. And extra chashu. And gyoza, "For the table,” he insisted, situating the platter next to his own bowl. 

As they ate, Naruto sighed with contentment. “Sakura—you’re great and all—but Sasuke-kun is my favorite teammate right now.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and cast a glance at the vanishing gyoza.

“I’m very hurt,” she said cordially, then frowned. “Stop hogging the gyoza.”

Team Seven might always bicker and rub each other the wrong way. But traveling, sleeping, fighting beside each other for the past few weeks had forged a strange new bond between them. Somewhere they had crossed a line, and now Sasuke would protect his teammates without a second thought. In turn, they would protect him. They already had.

For a moment in that battle, Sasuke had closed his eyes, fully believing he would die and leave Itachi the last Uchiha. Instead he had woken to Sakura’s face. She had not let him out of her sight since. 

Sakura stole the last four pieces of gyoza, dividing them between her plate and Sasuke’s.

“You finished it,” Naruto complained. Sakura clicked her tongue in regret. 

Naruto lived suspiciously close to Ichiraku’s. After the meal ended, he darted home with a smile, leaving Sakura and Sasuke alone outside.

Sakura smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“The dobe wouldn’t shut up otherwise.”

“Naruto will never leave you alone now,” she teased. This was also new. 

“Whatever,” Sasuke said. But he did not mind footing the bill. In all likelihood, he would do it again.

“Where do you live?” 

“Near the Academy.” He did not know who had arranged his housing, but they had chosen well: a busy area full of shops and restaurants, walking distance from the Uchiha compound, but not within sight. “You?”

Sakura named a nearby neighborhood populated by working-class, civilian families. Sasuke inspected his shoes. “All right,” he said, and started walking in that direction. After a couple steps he scowled. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Ah,” Sakura exclaimed. She fell into stride beside him.

Sakura was unusually quiet on the way home. They reached her door, narrow and flaking with old green paint. She dropped her bag and sat on the stoop. Sasuke accepted the unspoken invitation and took a seat.

“It’s strange to be back, after all that,” she said, cupping her cheeks, elbows balanced on her knees. “It doesn't feel real.”

Sasuke understood better than most. No matter what happened, the world went on.

“I’m really glad—” She swallowed, lip trembling. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Sasuke mumbled, “Yeah.”

Sakura flung her arms around him. She smelled like the soap they bought in the Land of Waves, and also something sweet, like the fresh forest air around Konoha. Her elbow jutted painfully into his ribs, and pink hair tickled his nose, but he didn't move. After a breath, he grazed her back with his fingertips, so light he didn’t know if she could feel.

“I don’t think things should be this way. Don’t you think?” Sakura’s quiet voice was close enough to his ear that he had no trouble hearing. At his silence, she pulled away. “We shouldn’t have to fight this hard. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

“This is how things are,” he said. He didn’t know any other way. He had been fighting for so long.

“Why?” Sakura asked.

Sasuke had never thought to ask this question. He frowned. Somewhere down the alley, water was dripping upon stone.

“Okay, I’m done.” Sakura exhaled. “I’ll stop annoying you now.”

“You don’t annoy me,” Sasuke mumbled. His palms tingled as the words left his mouth.

Sakura’s eyes sparkled, but she did not comment, and Sasuke was grateful.

They rose and Sakura and placed a hand on the door handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, then scowled. “No thanks to Naruto.”

The door creaked softly as it shut, then Sasuke was alone. He dropped his pack at the door of his silent apartment and set out for training ground twelve. Secluded and near the woods, it was a place where he spent many sleepless nights. 

As Sasuke threw kunai at targets he could barely see, a shiver ran down his spine, and his head spun. The kunai slipped from his grasp. When the sensation passed he was no longer in the training ground. 

The first thing he heard was a small sniffle. Smooth wooden floors and walls came into focus around him. A figure sat on the ground with their head lowered. Even though he couldn't see their face, Sasuke knew who it was.

“Sakura?”

She looked up. Tears clung and trembled upon her eyelashes. “Hello, Sasuke,” she said, with a watery smile.

“You…you’re different,” he accused, narrowing his eyes.She was not the Sakura he knew so well. Short pink hair fell to her chin. Her limbs were longer, her shoulders straighter. She wore the uniform of a chunin. He wondered if he was dreaming. “How _old_ are you?” 

Sakura wiped her cheeks with the heel of her palm, and the rest of Sasuke’s questions fled his mind. 

“Who hurt you?” Sasuke did not know why he assumed this. Sakura was not visibly injured, and there were plenty of things that might cause her to cry. But she drew a shaky breath, and he knew he was right. She was upset. She was in pain. His gut clenched in anger.

“Who?” he demanded.

Sakura’s lip trembled. “Don’t worry, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke sat. With his jaw locked, he threaded his fingers with hers. Sasuke hated unnecessary physical contact. But it was not the worst thing in the world to hold Sakura’s hand. His own Sakura would never know, and the loophole emboldened him.

Her eyes shut. After a long few seconds, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

It struck Sasuke that Sakura was not at all surprised by his sudden appearance. “What is this? What am I doing here?” he asked. She would tell him, if she knew.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She cleared her throat. “It happens, sometimes—us meeting like this. It will happen again. When you go back, it’s best you don’t tell anyone.”

“Why is this happening?” Another question occurred to him. “If you’re here,” he asked, “then where am I?”

Sakura said, “We love you, Sasuke. Kakashi, Naruto, and me. Always. I hope you know that.”

If these words had come from his own Sakura, he might have scowled and said something rude. But this Sakura would see straight through him. So Sasuke nodded. He knew. 

Sakura’s mouth curved up, and her eyes crinkled shut. It was a smile so soft and warm that Sasuke thought he imagined her earlier tears. Sasuke knew Sakura was pretty in the same way he knew springtime was pretty. But now, somehow it was more. It ached. 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again.

Through the ringing of his ears, he heard Sakura say, “Thank you for coming. I feel better.”

Moonlight glinted off the metal of an abandoned kunai at his feet. Cicadas shrilled in the darkness. Reaching for the kunai, Sasuke realized Sakura had not answered his last question. But the way she smiled at him, he knew that wherever he was, he was okay. 

Sasuke felt off the next day.

First, he was late to training. “I overslept,” he muttered. His teammates gaped, because when they traveled together Sasuke was always the first awake. 

Then there was the matter of Sakura. Sasuke was alarmed, because looking at her now set off a curious, soft pang in his stomach. He stared at her until a flush colored her cheeks, which somehow made everything worse.

“What?” she asked.

_Something strange is happening. I saw you. You had short hair. You were in pain._

“Would you ever cut your hair?” he could not help but ask.

Sakura frowned and touched the ends of her long hair. “I don’t know. Should I?” 

“Never mind.”

She grinned. “Why? Are you offering?”

Naruto appeared beside them. “What’s this about haircuts?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke grumbled.

“Are you cutting hair now, Sasuke?” Naruto asked.

“I don’t think you’d be very good at it,” Sakura kindly informed him. Sasuke scowled. This was not a skill he intended to master, but he was offended all the same.

Lastly, at the start of their lunch break, Sasuke leaned back against a tree and fell into a short, shallow doze. When he jerked awake his surroundings trembled in a perfect clarity. He could count the feathers of the hawk soaring above him.

“Sasuke?” a voice called. “Don’t you want to eat?”

Sakura knelt beside him. Her brow furrowed. She did not drop her gaze, looking straight into his red eyes. His Sharingan jumped to memorize every detail of her face.

Sasuke blinked hard. Sometimes the smallest triggers activated his new bloodline trait: a twig snapping, a cold breeze on the back of his neck, the motion of waking up from sleep. Sasuke’s vision swam as the scope of his awareness returned to normal. Naruto approached them, swinging his bagged lunch, and the movement made Sasuke’s head throb. He shut his eyes.

“Seven thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight,” he murmured, as Naruto sat beside him.

“What?” Sakura asked, voice soft.

After a beat of silence, Naruto said, “Sasuke-kun, you need a longer nap. You’re slipping.”

Sasuke experimented with opening his eyes and this time was successful. He fixed his teammates with a stern stare and jerked his chin up. “That’s how many feathers are on that bird.”

As one, Sakura and Naruto looked up to the bird circling over their heads.

“He’s right.” Kakashi’s shadow fell over them. Shading his eyes from the sun, he tilted his head towards Sasuke. “It gets easier to switch between, as time goes on.”

Sasuke stilled. Once, a whole clan shared in the dizzying experience of wielding a Sharingan. Now there was only Kakashi to guide him.

Kakashi wandered off, and the genin ate lunch together in the shade of the tree. They sat in their normal arrangement—Sakura in the middle, Naruto on her right, Sasuke on her left. As they traveled, this was the way they sat down to eat. It was even how they arranged their bedrolls at night. Everything was as it should be.

Except Naruto’s word stuck in Sasuke’s mind. Slipping. That’s exactly what it was. He had slipped through the cracks of his time and into another.

Sakura bumped her knee against his own. “Are you all right?”

Sasuke nodded.

He felt seen. It was not such a bad thing.

.

.

With training and preparing for the chunin exams, the slipping fell to the back of Sasuke’s mind. Then in the Forest of Death, he awoke to see Sakura with newly shorn hair. She was one step closer to the girl he saw in that waking dream. He had failed to protect her, and now she was in pain. 

The dark lines of his new curse mark leaked over his skin, and he unleashed all his power against the ones who hurt her, until Sakura begged him to stop. Only her touch brought him back to himself.

.

. 

Sasuke was leaving Konoha in the night when he slipped again.

It was sudden this time, violent, like the ground giving way to a pit beneath his feet. Daylight blinded him. His head spun. Pins and needles pricked his fingers.

“Sasuke-kun,” someone said.

Sasuke couldn’t speak. It had taken every last shred of his willpower to leave. And now she was in front of him again like it had been nothing.

“I see,” Sakura said. “You’re leaving now, aren’t you?”

She was taller than him. They were on a dark street, but he could make out the white coat she wore.

The worst part was the kindness on her face. The understanding. Like she _knew_.

His eyes stung.

With a jolt Sasuke returned to his own time. He was alone in the dark woods, three hours from Konoha. Still close enough to return. Sasuke touched his face and discovered he had been crying.

He wondered if Sakura was cold where he had left her. 

His curse mark itched, then it throbbed. Sasuke set off again.

Two days later, Naruto caught up with him. They confronted each other against the waterfall.

“Sakura told me not to come,” Naruto said. “She said you’d come back.”

“What does Sakura know?” he scoffed.

They fought. In the end, Sasuke was the one left standing. He left everything and everyone behind. He was strong.

.

.

.

. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> As he trains with Orochimaru, Sasuke slips to an older Sakura, who is living by the ocean.
> 
> Other notes:  
> -I started writing this fic in late July and finished in early October. When first playing around with the idea, I wrote "this cannot be another 40 page fic." Joke's on me because it became an 80 page fic, lol.  
> -I have not read/watched Boruto, so I am not aware of the specifics of Sasuke's time travel works in that verse. In this story, it is something he can't control. Please ignore any discrepancies!  
> -This whole fic was inspired by [theredconversegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24467191/chapters/59049907%22)'s fic [The Red Loop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24467191/chapters/59049907), with art by [myr_art](https://twitter.com/myr_art). Thank you to them for their inspiration!  
> -thanks to my boyfriend for helping me edit :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed :)


	2. ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter contains mentions of death, and also orochimaru displays some possessive behavior over sasuke.

**pt. 2: ocean**

* * *

“You are weak,” Orochimaru hissed, a lazy foot pinning Sasuke’s chest to the ground.

Sasuke glared up at the snake Sannin. “I’m not weak.” In the dim torchlight of Orochimaru’s hideout, his power grew by the day.  
  
His new mentor was unimpressed. “You’re not committed. Don’t waste my time if you’re still holding on to your silly village.” He released Sasuke. “You must choose.”  
  
That night, Sasuke saw the faces of the people he had left behind, because the Sharingan kept him from forgetting. But Sasuke had already made his choice. He was already here, wasn’t he? He would do anything to kill Itachi and avenge his slain clan. Nothing else mattered.  
  
He lit a fire in his mind’s eye. Everything burned away, except for Itachi’s face, and the shape of his own hatred. He learned to cut away stray thoughts of his old life, his teammates. He dismissed the time-slipping as a fluke, as inexplicable as the way his curse mark boiled his blood and infused him with strength. As he grew more powerful, the task of rewriting himself became easier and easier, until it was nothing at all.  
  
At the hideout near Kusagakure, Sasuke turned fourteen, then fifteen. Orochimaru never called him weak again. Instead, when he looked at Sasuke, his gaze was hungry, like he might consume him. If Sasuke didn’t already know the Sannin wished to claim his body as a vessel, he would have known with one look at his sallow face. The desire was obvious. It grew as wild as brambles around Sasuke. But Sasuke used the thorns as his shield and protection as he cultivated his hatred and his power, clearing a path towards vengeance for his clan.  
  
One day Orochimaru led Sasuke to his own sprawling quarters and hissed, “I have a gift for you,” and presented Sasuke a purple obi. When Sasuke knotted it around his waist, Orochimaru trailed a possessive finger over the thick cord. His pale hands trembled. Sasuke pretended not to see.  
  
Kabuto called for Orochimaru, and Sasuke was alone in the Sannin’s dark chamber. Dust coated everything in sight except for an ornate vanity and mirror in the center of the room. These fixtures gleamed even in the dark. Askew on the surface of the vanity lay jars of fine white powder, pots of creamy greasepaint, and vials swirling with green liquid, for which Sasuke could name no purpose. 

Sasuke dipped his fingers into an open jar of paint. The purple pigment was tacky on his skin, like drying blood. He eyed the collection of brushes Orochimaru used to paint his face. The bristles of each brush tip varied in color and texture. They were composed of human hair. Sasuke frowned, then locked eyes with his reflection in the mirror.  
  
For the first time since he had joined Orochimaru, Sasuke had the opportunity to look at himself. The mirror revealed long dark hair falling past his collarbone. A loose, white shirt carelessly flung open to reveal his bare chest. An obi, purple as poison, coiled like a snake around his waist. A dissatisfied mouth, slanting down. Red, red eyes that absorbed all light and reflected none back. In a trance, he pulled his hair back from his face. Itachi peered back at him. Sasuke recoiled and dropped the ponytail.  
  
In his own chamber Sasuke cut his hair as short as he could get it with a kunai. When it was done he felt the jagged and uneven spikes and let out a breath. He was not Orochimaru’s vessel. He was not a Konoha shinobi. He was not Itachi. He was his own.

.

.

  
Sasuke’s old teammates infiltrated Orochimaru’s lair.   
  
Through Orochimaru’s network of spies, Sasuke had heard word of Sakura’s healing abilities, and her defeat of Sasori of the Akatsuki. He could not help staring at her, trying to sense the difference. But when her mouth formed the syllables of his name, his ears rejected the sound of her voice.  
  
He had not heard any news of Naruto. Sasuke tested his abilities and found him wanting.  
  
The encounter was short and inconsequential. Sasuke had done his work well. He didn’t feel a thing. Nothing, not even his old teammates, could keep him from fulfilling his purpose. 

Half-asleep in bed that night, he remembered how Naruto’s nose twitched right before he smiled. 

Sasuke opened his eyes and frowned at his ceiling, shutting down the intrusive thought.

He remembered another half-forgotten detail. Sakura’s knees bruised easily. 

Spots colored Sasuke’s vision. He gasped, fighting a flood of nausea.

Rain pattered upon a wooden roof. The air smelled like salt.  
  
Sakura’s hair was long. She said, “It’s you.”  
  
By the time Sasuke activated the glare of his Sharingan, he was back in his bed.  
  
He shot up, fingers still tingling, far more shaken than he would like.  
  
Sasuke had learned to harness the power of his curse mark. He had mastered the chidori, the Sharingan, and all of Orochimaru’s tricks. He had overcome his weaknesses and cut away all ties to his old life. How could this be happening?

.

.

  
The next time, Sasuke lunged at Sakura even before the tingling in his fingers faded.  
  
Sakura let out a grunt. Her forearm blocked his assault. When they made contact Sasuke’s stomach lurched. Her body felt solid and very real. 

Sakura sprang backwards and held up her hands. “I don’t want to fight you.”  
  
Sasuke darted towards her again. She twisted his arm and flipped him to the ground. His back connected with the floor with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. 

Long pink hair dangled in his face. He tried to move, but an iron grip pinned him down. “Sorry about that.” She didn’t sound sorry.  
  
“How did you get so strong?” he demanded.  
  
A small bubble of laughter escaped Sakura.  
  
Sasuke’s stomach turned in a familiar falling motion. He lurched up in his own bed, the sound of her laugh ringing in his ears, and spit out a curse. 

The last person to pin Sasuke down in a fight was Orochimaru. Two years ago. 

When he had attacked Sakura, he hadn’t even bothered to use his doujutsu. He had underestimated her.

.

.

  
Sasuke knew he would slip again, as if he had activated his Sharingan and seen the shape of the instinct with his own eyes. He prepared himself. As he cooled from the previous encounter with Sakura, he decided it would not be wise to attack her. Instead, he would use the visits to his advantage and gather information.  
  
The next time, he was ready.  
  
The scent of salt filled his nose. Sasuke was alone in a one-roomed, lofted shack. He rushed to the nearest window. Morning sun illuminated a rocky coastline, which eased into sand and then an endless expanse of blue ocean. Two tall rock formations studded the water and distant mountains cut into the sky. This landscape appeared nowhere near Konoha.  
  
Sasuke released his grip on the windowpane and assessed his surroundings. The room was bare save for a table, a bookshelf, and two chairs positioned next to the small hearth. A row of large seashells decorated its mantle. He caught a glimpse of bedding tucked away in the loft high above his head. A dark cat dozed on the kitchen counter next to a stack of wooden bowls.  
  
The door creaked open, inviting a gust of wind into the room. Sakura halted in the doorframe, carrying a wooden bucket heavy with seawater. She wore loose pants and a man’s shirt. A diamond marked the center of her forehead.

“Sasuke,” she greeted, brow furrowed. A strange expression—something he couldn’t name—rose then fell from her face. 

“Am I not who you expected?” Sasuke bit.  
  
Sakura’s mouth twitched. “Not quite.” 

“Where are we?” he asked.  
  
“My place,” Sakura said, shutting the door with a swing of her hip. She set the bucket on the floor.  
  
The dark cat slunk down from the kitchen counter and leapt into Sasuke’s surprised arms. 

“Her name is Hime,” Sakura said, as the cat made herself comfortable on his shoulder, as if she were royalty.

“Why is this happening?” he demanded. But with a cat purring next to his ear, he imagined he did not form the threatening picture he wanted.  
  
Sakura validated his concerns by asking, “Do you want some tea? Or if you’re hungry, I collected mussels. They’re best when they’re fresh.”   
  
He snorted.  
  
“You’re already here, aren’t you? Might as well enjoy yourself.” She smiled. Her fingers twitched. “Unless you’re interested in another fight.”  
  
Sasuke’s fists clenched. I am here for information, he reminded himself, and took a reluctant seat at the table. Sakura poured two cups of tea, though he had not asked for any, and sat across from him.   
  
Sasuke asked, “What year is it?” The cat sprang from his shoulder onto his thigh.  
  
Sakura named a date five years ahead of his own.  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
She smiled.  
  
“What’s happened to the village?”  
  
Silence. Konoha might have burned to the ground, or Sakura might be Hokage. Sasuke could not read her.  
  
Another question burned in his throat, one he had not planned to ask, but it escaped him anyway. “Do I…” He swallowed. “Do I kill Itachi? You must know.”  
  
He thought her eyes saddened. Or maybe it was the light.  
  
“Answer me,” he snapped.  
  
Sasuke had spent nights envisioning what might happen the next time he slipped—the questions he could ask Sakura, the knowledge he would gain. But he had not considered the simple possibility that she would resist answering him. He had not foreseen the cup of tea steaming before him, the cat curled in his lap.  
  
“I’m sorry you’re hurting so much,” she said.   
  
Sasuke shot up, jostling the table. His teacup toppled over. The cat let out an unhappy cry and darted out of sight.  
  
“Don’t act like you know me,” he spat, blood rushing to his head.  
  
He was speaking to the shadows of his empty room.

.

.

  
Sasuke returned to this Sakura at the seaside time and time again.   
  
It always happened when he was tired, half-asleep, his guard down. He worked himself to the bone, hoping fatigue would fend away the unwanted journey. It did not.  
  
Sasuke bombarded her with questions. Sakura responded with jests, frustrating half-truths, or silence, until Sasuke stopped asking. He had failed to adopt Orochimaru’s slick and persuasive nature. Any information he learned was at Sakura’s mercy.  
  
Sometimes when he arrived, Sakura was making breakfast. Feeding the cat. Sitting by the hearth, playing a game of shogi with herself. “Tea?” she asked, each time. 

Sasuke would slam the door on the way out. If he couldn’t control his visits, he could at least limit his exposure to Sakura. The wooden shack was perched on the first patch of firm ground by the water. He stared at the ocean until he slipped back to his own time.   
  
His visits were brief, until one time, it wasn’t.  
  
Sakura was up in the loft, folding her bedding. She fluffed a pillow and made no comment at his appearance. 

Sasuke dodged the cat’s affections. He sat cross-legged against the side of her small home and waited for the vertigo that meant he was on his way. Half an hour passed, but it did not come.  
  
At the sound of a creaky door, Sasuke opened his eyes.  
  
Sakura strode outside with a wooden bucket. “You’re still here,” she observed.  
  
Against his better judgement, Sasuke spoke. “I’d rather not be.”  
  
“You look tired.”  
  
“It’s the middle of the night,” he insisted, squinting in the morning sun. A bird chirped cheerfully in the middle of his sentence.  
  
“Well,” Sakura said. She situated the bucket on her hip. “Don’t let me keep you.”  
  
This concluded their second-longest conversation. Sakura walked down to the tide pools, waded calf-deep in the water, and collected mussels. He was still here when she returned, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stone path.  
  
Water sloshed from Sakura’s bucket. “Are you hungry?” she called, already smirking in anticipation of his refusal.  
  
He glared.  
  
Sakura was not done. She touched a finger to her chin. “You like sitting here. I’ll build a bench,” she decided.  
  
“Don’t,” Sasuke advised.  
  
Next time, a bench waited outside her house. The material was the same smooth wood as the house, though Sasuke didn’t see any hardwood trees around.   
  
He scowled, but he sat down. The cat joined him, then Sakura joined him.  
  
“When was the last time I was here?” he sighed.  
  
“Three days ago.” Sakura set an extra cup of tea between them, which Sasuke ignored. “And you?”  
  
“Last night.” He rubbed his temples. “And the night before that.”  
  
“No wonder you’re tired,” she said, scratching Hime between her ears.  
  
Sasuke sprang a question. “Why aren’t you in Konoha?”  
  
“I like the ocean,” Sakura said, without skipping a beat.  
  
“Since when?” he muttered. They had seen the ocean together once, on their first mission. He didn’t remember Sakura making any particular fuss about it.  
  
The half-smile on her face faded. “I’m here because I’m waiting for something.”  
  
Something in her voice made Sasuke’s head turn. He allowed himself to really look at Sakura, to see what she would be like in five years' time. Her hair was long again. Her limbs were wiry and powerful emerging from the men’s clothing she now wore. Her chin was just as delicate as he remembered, her eyes just as green, reflecting the sea.  
  
“What are you waiting for?” Sasuke asked. The rocky ceiling of his chamber gave no response.

.

.

  
On Sasuke’s sixteenth birthday, Orochimaru procured another gift for Sasuke. He held out a thin wooden box and opened the lid for him. A delicate wooden comb lay in its plush interior.  
  
“For your hair,” the Sannin said.  
  
Sasuke nearly smiled. He was unversed in the finer details of gift-giving, but even he knew that _kushi_ made inauspicious gifts.  
  
“Don't worry about good or bad luck, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru assured. He grasped the comb and ran a thumb across its slender wooden teeth, producing a musical vibration. “We won’t need any of it.”  
  
He stepped closer and ran the comb through the front lock of Sasuke’s hair. He was gentle, practicing ownership of his future vessel.  
  
Sasuke froze through the first stroke of the comb, and the next. Then the fine teeth snared on a tangle. Awakened by the twinge of pain on his scalp, Sasuke pulled back. The hairs stood up on his arms.  
  
Orochimaru would soon try to claim him. But Sasuke was stronger than Orochimaru. He fell asleep that night thinking about his next steps.   
  
He woke up and blood was dripping from his eyelashes, clogging his ears. He retched at the scent, acid rising to his throat. He saw his parents’ slumped bodies. He saw Itachi’s red eyes. He heard every sound a clan made as it was slaughtered, then the terrible silence after the screaming had stopped.  
  
His fists clenched in his blankets, but his fingers closed around sand.  
  
There was an ocean in front of him.  
  
Sasuke was chest deep into the cold water when he realized he was not splattered in the blood of his nightmare. He plunged under anyway, because he still felt unclean. He floated in the darkness, his body bobbing with the tide. After some time, his lungs panged in a distant way. He opened his eyes, feeling the burn of the salt. The pain in his lungs worsened until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sasuke broke the surface and gasped for air.  
  
When he emerged from the waves, Sakura was waiting for him on the beach. She held out a blanket.   
  
_Leave me alone_. Sasuke opened his mouth to spit out the words. But he hesitated. Accepting Sakura’s blanket changed nothing in his own time. It would only make his existence a little warmer and drier for the time being. Nothing he did here in this dreamlike world changed anything at all.  
  
Sasuke wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. It was soft and heavy, and smelled of something fresh. Dimly, he remembered this was Sakura’s scent. He dropped to the ground to ease the shaking of his legs. 

Without a sound, Sakura sat next to him. She did not touch him, did not look anywhere except the water. Sasuke dried his face, then ran his fingers through the cool sand, grounding himself. All was quiet except for waves crashing against the pair of rock formations.

As he was slipping back, she spoke. “Take care, Sasuke-kun.”  
  
Sasuke fell into a dreamless sleep. In the morning his clothes were stiff with seawater, flecked with salt and sand. Something hard and round pressed against his palm. Sasuke opened his fingers and discovered he was holding a pebble. Its surface was smooth as water, and it was the same color as the moon. 

.

.

  
It was another night, and instead of sleep, Sasuke was pulled to Sakura.  
  
She joined him outside. The morning sun shimmered on the water.  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Like usual, she offered Sasuke tea. As Hime purred against his leg, Sasuke’s fingers wrapped around the cup.   
  
“Hm,” Sakura said, watching him. “If I remember right, this is the last time.”  
  
“The last time?” Sasuke repeated.  
  
“The last time you’ll come here.” She took a sip of her tea. “It’s not the end, though. You’ll see me elsewhere. In other times.”  
  
Sasuke remembered the other Sakura he had met, the first time he had slipped. She was crying, and Sasuke had held her hand. He had tried to forget.  
  
But that wasn’t the first time. An old dream—what Sasuke thought was a dream—came back to him in a rush. A woman with pink hair had given him breakfast. She was pregnant. Her baby had kicked.  
  
Something must have shown on his face, because Sakura said, “I know this is strange. It’s been strange for me too.”  
  
“You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much.” Though he tried, his voice had no heat.   
  
“Yes,” she said. “I know why this is happening.”  
  
“How do you know?” he asked.  
  
Maybe he asked the right question, because for once, Sakura gave him a blunt answer. “I know because you told me.”  
  
Sasuke’s throat went dry. “Sakura—”

He didn't know where he was going with that sentence, but it didn't matter. He slipped away.

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> Sasuke forms his team, learns the cause of his time-slipping, and makes some decisions.
> 
> Notes:  
> Combs (kushi) are considered bad luck when given as gifts--"ku" means suffering and "shi" means death.  
> This chapter and chapter 7 are my favorites, so I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you did!!
> 
> late update bc I was swept away celebrating how trump was voted out of office!!! he can now fuck off :)


	3. marked

**pt 3: marked**

* * *

Sakura was right. He did not see the ocean the next time he slipped.  
  
The world was ending.  
  
The ground beneath him shook. A boom sounded in the distance, followed by screaming.  
  
Sasuke activated his Sharingan. Through the thick smoke, he glimpsed five faces carved into a mountainside.  
  
A voice, hoarse from shouting, was calling Naruto’s name.  
  
He weaved his way through the wreckage towards Sakura, desperate to glean _when_ he was. Sakura whirled. No diamond marked her forehead. She did not look much older than him. Sasuke’s breath caught. Konoha would be destroyed within the year.  
  
“Sasuke?” she cried. “ _Go_!”  
  
“What’s happening?” he demanded.  
  
Her eyes widened. An ear-shattering rumble drowned out her words. The watchtower next to them was collapsing. Sasuke dodged the deadliest debris, but something heavy and sharp caught his temple. He fell to his knees, blinking stars from his vision. 

A cool shadow fell over Sasuke’s face. He looked up in time to see the tower tipping over above him. In half a breath it would crush his bones.  
  
Sakura’s fist collided with the structure, splintering it apart. 

Sasuke lifted an arm to protect his face as chunks of wood, stone, and tile rained down upon them. Sakura straightened, her shoulders heaving. She stood tall and firm against the reddened sky.  
  
“It’s not a good time, Sasuke,” she said over her shoulder.  
  
Sasuke would have made it away, but Sakura had taken no chances.

Pins and needles pricked his fingers. Sasuke’s lungs no longer burned with smoke. Sunlight poured into the living room of a small apartment. In the distance, birds chirped.

Sakura swept into the room, wearing a pink dress and a diamond mark. “You’re bleeding,” she exclaimed.  
  
Sasuke touched the slick trail of blood flowing down his face. His head felt fuzzy. 

“Can I heal you?”  
  
An unexplained wound would trigger Orochimaru’s suspicions. “Fine,” he resigned.  
  
“Sit down,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Sasuke sank into the cushions of Sakura’s couch. He could not make out the titles on her bookshelf.  
  
Sakura returned with a bowl of water and a cloth slung over her shoulder.  
  
“Is this all right?” Her fingers hovered near the side of his face. She waited for him to nod.

Her hands lit with green chakra. She touched her fingertips to his temple. Sasuke did not know where to look, so he stared at his hands. The warmth of her chakra soothed his aching skull, clearing the dizziness from his head.  
  
Sakura wet the cloth and dabbed at the blood on his face. As she moved, the aroma of lavender floated from her skin and hair. Sasuke frowned. In the past, he had appeared before Sakura halfway through her breakfast. He had woken her up in the middle of the night and just finished distracting her in the midst of battle. But only now, smelling her carefully applied perfume, did he feel as if he were interrupting. Not that it mattered.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I slipped…” Sasuke paused, but Sakura did not look confused. Apparently, she knew his terminology. What else would he tell her? He continued, with a glare, “Konoha was under attack. _You_ were there.”  
  
Sakura lowered her hand. “I remember now. That was a year ago.”  
  
“What happened to the village?”  
  
“Do you want to look for yourself?” Sakura gestured to the open window. 

Sasuke could not understand why she was so calm. He crossed the room and looked out. 

Minutes before the village was in ruins. Now there were no signs of destruction. Konoha was cheerful in the afternoon sun. It was the same village Sasuke remembered and yet it was not. Colorful rooftops shone with fresh paint. Streets followed a loose grid, when before they wound and tangled together. The street sign design had changed, but the shape of the streetlamps had not. It was a Konoha constructed from memories, from dreams.  
  
From behind, Sakura said simply, “We rebuilt.”  
  
Sasuke turned. “The Uchiha compound…” 

“It’s safe,” she said. “Untouched.”

“Why did you show this to me?”  
  
“I thought this was important for you to know.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t have curtains.”

Sasuke’s ears rang with the sound of Sakura screaming Naruto’s name. “How’s the dobe?” The question lacked subtlety, but he needed to know. Too late, he arranged his features in a scowl.

A smile played on Sakura’s lips. She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m going to see him right now.” As Sasuke exhaled a quiet breath, Sakura grimaced. “Actually, I’m late.”  
  
Sasuke bristled. Every time he encountered Sakura, he left with more questions. Meanwhile, nothing he did ever fazed her. He had materialized in her apartment and bled on her couch and she did not bat an eye. And now she would continue on with her plans for the day—plans that involved Naruto, perfume, a pink dress.  
  
“Don’t let me keep you,” he jested. “You look nice.” He was not lying.  
  
For once Sakura was speechless. Sasuke did not think he imagined the flush rising to her cheeks. 

His stomach twisted in satisfaction. He felt the urge to crack her cool composure again. “I know things about you that you don’t know yet,” he taunted. 

_You’ll go to the sea. You’ll be waiting for something. You’ll have a child._ He almost wanted to tell her right then, to see how she would react.  
  
When Sakura smiled, Sasuke realized his blunder.  
  
“I know things about you, too,” she said, gentle and steady, like a promise.   
  
Sasuke wished he could stay, to unravel what her expression meant. But he jerked back to his time.  
  
His chamber was not empty. A pale face gleamed in the dark.  
  
“You’ve been lying to me, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru cooed. He smiled mournfully. “Where do you go all these nights, when your chakra signature disappears?” He edged closer. He smelled sickly sweet, like rotting flowers. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”  
  
A cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of Sasuke’s neck. It was now or never.  
  
“I don’t belong to you,” Sasuke said. “I won’t be your vessel.”  
  
Orochimaru’s eyes iced over. “It is not up to you,” he hissed. He rolled a lock of Sasuke’s hair between his fingertips.  
  
Growling, Sasuke swatted his hand away. Rage, determination, and strength erupted in his chest. He lunged towards Orochimaru. Halfway between his first and second step, Sasuke knew he would win the fight.  
  
Orochimaru’s essence decomposed and bled into his own.  
  
Sasuke left and did not look back.

.

.

  
By the time Sasuke assembled his team he was well past seventeen.

“We are now Hebi,” he informed Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo. “Our purpose is to locate my brother Itachi. After we find him, I will kill him.”  
  
They stopped by the abandoned city of Sora-ku to visit Nekoba and gather supplies. Near the outskirts of the city they set up camp and prepared to cook their first hot meal in weeks.  
  
“Oh, Suigetsu?” Karin called.  
  
Suigetsu was wrestling with his knife, half-sunken and stuck within a head of cabbage. “Yes?”  
  
“Are you good with the sword?” Karin tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, gesturing to the Executioner’s Blade propped up against Suigetsu’s belongings.  
  
“I’d say so,” he said, smiling under Karin’s attention. Grasping the knife handle, he hit the cabbage against the cutting board and managed to hack it in half on the third strike.  
  
Karin scowled. “Then why can’t you handle chopping a vegetable?”  
  
“What’s wrong with my chopping?” he complained.  
  
After years spent at the Kusagakure hideout, Sasuke had grown accustomed to stale air, torchlight, and long stretches of solitude. Now he was surrounded by bodies eating, bickering, and snoring near him. It was an adjustment.  
  
“I don’t know where to begin,” Karin said.  
  
Sasuke opened his mouth to plead for their silence, then stopped short. He held out his hand for the knife. “I’ll do it.”  
  
Suigetsu conceded, and Sasuke took his place. He peeled away the wilted outer leaves of the cabbage and sliced through its bulk with fluid movements.  
  
“That’s some fancy knifework,” Suigetsu said, as Sasuke made quick work of an onion and flew on to the garlic. “I didn’t know you could _cook_.”  
  
Sasuke scowled. “Of course I know.” Every shinobi knew how to feed themselves. He yawned into his shoulder without slowing the movement of his knife.  
  
“But not like that,” Suigetsu said.  
  
Sasuke put down the knife. A mound of delicately sliced vegetables trembled on the cutting board. “Aa,” he acknowledged.  
  
“How did you learn?” Karin asked.  
  
Sasuke didn’t answer. He had learned from time spent in a neglected, dim scullery at the Kusagakure hideout. From fending for himself in his Konoha apartment as an Academy student. From watching his mother.  
  
They continued on with preparing their meal. Jugo tended to the rice and Karin added oil and garlic to the pan heating over the fire.  
  
Sasuke sounded a tsk. “It will burn if you add it now.”  
  
Karin, normally timid around Sasuke, scowled and tightened her grip on the handle. “No, it won’t.”  
  
The garlic burned. Sasuke wisely did not say a word.   
  
As they ate, Karin said, “I blame Suigetsu,” ignoring his cry of protest.  
  
Jugo offered Suigetsu a sympathetic look. “You’ll do better next time,” he reassured him.

Sasuke held back a smirk.  
  
It was all an adjustment.

.

.

Sasuke found himself pinned against a wall of rock. Itachi trudged towards him, but Sasuke could not move, could not go on for any longer.  
  
Itachi smiled, the same smile he reserved only for his brother, and brushed his fingertips against Sasuke’s brow. His hand fell away, then his body fell without making a sound. Sasuke’s vision tunneled. He slumped to the rocky ground. His mind was merciful, and granted him unconsciousness.  
  
When Sasuke stirred, he was lying on tatami.  
  
Without opening his eyes, he rasped, “He’s dead.”  
  
Sakura said, “I know.”  
  
With ginger movements, he shifted to sit up. But there was no pain. His wounds were already healed.  
  
Sasuke’s body shook. It was over, and all he felt was a gnawing absence. He did not see the face of the murderous killer that haunted his nightmares. He only saw the way his older brother’s solemn eyes used to crinkle as he tapped Sasuke’s forehead and promised, _Maybe next time_.  
  
The normal passage of time never applied to Sasuke. Now it slowed to a halt as he sank into grief, unable to name what he was mourning.  
  
After an eternity, Sasuke became aware of a strange noise ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes. 

Though he did not recall moving, he was clenching Sakura’s hand with all his strength, so hard it must have hurt. 

Sakura’s head was turned to the hall. The tiny wail did not stop. It was a sound he had not heard since he was a child, surrounded by dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children. A baby was crying.

“Forgive me,” Sakura whispered. She gently untangled their fingers, and Sasuke nearly whimpered from the loss of her touch.  
  
She returned with a dark-haired baby and sat next to him.  
  
“Yours?” The question rose unbidden to his lips.  
  
Sakura didn't respond. Then again, Sasuke wasn’t sure if he had spoken aloud.

The baby blinked serious eyes. In his delirium, Sasuke saw Itachi. His dead brother looked at him again through the new life in Sakura’s arms. 

Sasuke shook his head, but the baby still wore his Itachi’s eyes. His own eyes.  
  
“Yes,” Sakura said. “She’s mine.”  
  
Sasuke’s head spun with vertigo, and he knew his time with her was almost done. He fought to cling to consciousness, but it was too much. 

As his vision darkened, something caught him. The floor rose slowly to kiss his cheek.  
  
On the edges of his awareness he heard a voice.  
  
“It’s going to get harder.” A cool hand smoothed the hair from his brow. “You’ll need to be strong.”

Sasuke woke up again in a cavernous, dark room. The warm, grassy aroma of tatami was gone, replaced with the funk of mold and stale water.  
  
“Sakura?” he whispered. His hope was short-lived. When he sat up, metal clinked. Chains grew out of cuffs on his wrists, restraining him to the wall.   
  
A mask floated in the air, as orange as lava, spiraling like a seashell into a singular opening above the right eye.  
  
“Who is Sakura?” the mask hummed. Sasuke flinched.  
  
The mask drew closer, until torchlight revealed the cloaked body to which it belonged. It was Tobi, the cowardly Akatsuki member, but it was not.  
  
“Who are you?” Sasuke said.  
  
The light in the room flickered. The figure said, “I am Uchiha Madara.”  
  
Sasuke learned the truth about Itachi and the Uchiha massacre.  
  
Sakura had not lied. Everything became harder.   
  
Madara did not give him a moment to think, to process, to mourn, before he said, “There is something else.”

Sasuke could not bear anything else.

“You bear the mark of a powerful doujutsu. The Rinnegan,” he breathed. “After I found you, your body disappeared. When you reappeared, your wounds were healed.” Madara’s eye flashed. “You went somewhere else. To a time that is not your own.”  
  
Blood pounded in Sasuke’s ears.  
  
“The wielder of the Rinnegan may cross barriers in time and space. Already, time ripples differently around you. You are marked. One day you will possess its power.”  
  
“How do you know this?” Sasuke asked.  
  
The shadows in the room bent towards Madara. “Because I am also marked.”  
  
Sasuke finally knew something about his future, the cause of the time-slipping he had experienced his whole life. But there was no pleasure that came with the clarity. He was a container filled to the brim with water. He couldn’t hold anymore.   
  
“When you disappear, where do you go?” Madara asked, a curious lilt to his voice.  
  
“The ocean,” Sasuke replied, fixing Madara with his darkest stare. “Where do you go?”  
  
The eye beneath the mask narrowed. “The Rinnegan’s mark reveals, across all time and distance, that to which you are tied.”  
  
Sasuke was tired. “Where are my teammates?”  
  
They were clustered by a cliff overlooking the ocean, robes flapping in the breeze. Leaving Madara behind, Sasuke made his way to them. He sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the earth. Without a word, Karin, Jugo, and Suigetsu shifted their bodies to shield him from Madara’s probing gaze.  
  
Surrounded by their protection, Sasuke’s face twisted up. His body shuddered with silent sobs. 

Nothing in this world looked the same now that he knew the truth—from the lines of his own hands, to the dying sun shimmering upon the water. This time, diving into the ocean would not end his nightmare.  
  
Once he could speak, he said, “We are now Taka. Our mission is to destroy Konoha.”  
  
Sasuke had witnessed Konoha’s destruction with his own eyes. It must have been him.  
  
The expressions of his teammates faltered.  
  
“What did he tell you?” Karin wondered, as Suigetsu stammered, “Are you sure?”  
  
Sasuke’s fists clenched. “Don't question me,” he snapped.  
  
When Madara extended an offer to join the Akatsuki, Sasuke accepted.

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> Sasuke has some more choices to make. He grows closer to seeing Sakura in real time. 
> 
> Notes:  
> Look up the story of Ninigi and Sakuya if you'd like to see some of my inspiration for this story, and specifically why everyone is thinking about the ocean (besides the fact that I wanted to write Sakura chilling by some tide pools).
> 
> Heads up that all interactions are consensual and age appropriate in this fic. I also envision Sasuke to be 18 in the next chapter. (Fun fact: I wrote an angsty smut scene that didn't make it into this story, but maybe that scene will appear elsewhere on its own or in another work, lol.)
> 
> Thank you for reading!! The response to this fic so far has blown me away. My favorite comments are all the people saying they want to live by the ocean now (same), or that they are reading this fic even though it's rated T and they love smut too much. You're all amazing!


	4. choice

**pt 4: choice**

* * *

Sasuke’s teammates followed him into the ranks of the Akatsuki and into the Land of Lightning.

Halfway to their destination, Sasuke woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt. Karin, keeping guard, asked, “Who’s Sakura?”  
  
Sasuke was very awake.  
  
Karin continued in a quiet whisper, “You were saying her name in your sleep.”  
  
Sakura was everywhere, infiltrating his thoughts and dreams, disrupting his movement through time. Sasuke exhaled. He did not trust himself to lie. “She was my old teammate.”  
  
“I see,” Karin said. She sprang, “Are you sure this all is what you want? Don’t you want to rest now?”  
  
“I would if you stopped talking,” he said, scowling. He rolled over.  
  
Karin chuckled. Sasuke’s irritability no longer bothered her.  
  
He didn’t sleep. He thought about the Sakura he had met in a pink dress, letting him glimpse a rebuilt Konoha outside her window.  
  
Sasuke searched within his deep pocket, fingers closing around the pebble from Sakura’s beach. He pressed its gentle weight against the center of his palm. 

For the first time, he wanted to slip. He wanted to see her. To ask why, if he was the one destroying the village, she did not hate him. Why instead, she healed him, showed him her child, and offered him a blanket. 

He stayed put.

.

.

“Sasuke!” Karin cried. “Are you okay?”  
  
The battle with the eight-tails was not going well. Jugo had plugged the gaping cavity in his chest, but Sasuke still could not breathe.  
  
Karin rolled up her sleeve. Sasuke bit down on her forearm, adding his mark to the collection of teeth-shaped scars on her skin. Karin’s chakra burned through him like electricity, shocking his limbs awake. Sasuke’s lungs jumped back into commission. He gulped oxygen with ragged breaths.  
  
After the battle, they trekked to a sheltered spot and collapsed on the ground without bothering to unfurl their bedrolls. Sasuke woke up in the middle of the night with one hand clutching his ribs, confirming his body was still whole. His teammates breathed softly next to him in a tangle of dark robes, travel packs, and weapons. Sasuke blinked hard. For a moment, he thought he had slipped again, back to his genin days, to one of the countless nights spent sleeping within arm’s reach of Naruto and Sakura.

His head rushed with vertigo. Sasuke stood up in a small living room smelling faintly of lavender. There was the couch where Sakura had healed him. There was the bookshelf, the shelves more packed than Sasuke’s last visit. Outside Sakura’s window, the new Konoha was peaceful in the moonlight. The village would go on, no matter who destroyed it and why.  
  
Wooden floorboards creaked.  
  
“Was it me?” he asked. “Was I the one destroying Konoha?”  
  
Sakura was bare-legged, with sleep-mussed hair, securing the tie of a thin robe around her waist. 

“Which Sasuke are you?” she murmured.  
  
Sasuke drew his cloak around his shoulders, revealing the Akatsuki clouds. Voice hoarse, he said, “I learned the Konoha council was behind my clan’s massacre.”

It was his first time uttering the words aloud. Whenever he tried to share the truth with Taka, his throat closed. He wondered how his teammates still followed him when he could not explain the reason why they were risking their lives.  
  
Sakura hugged her torso. In the dark, her eyes shone.   
  
“It’s true, then,” Sasuke reasoned. Sakura wouldn’t be looking at him that way if it wasn’t true.  
  
“It’s true,” she echoed, in a whisper.  
  
“You’re certain?”  
  
“I broke into the council’s files to be sure. But you told me yourself, years ago.”  
  
A part of Sasuke had suspected, even hoped, that Madara had lied. But Sakura would not lie to him.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” she said.  
  
“Tell me what will happen.”   
  
Sakura remained silent.  
  
Sasuke broke. He pleaded, “Please, Sakura. I need to know. What should I do now?” 

“You have a choice to make,” she said, joining him by the windowsill. “What’s important to you? What do you want to fight for?”

Sasuke gazed out at Sakura’s street. Did anything change when the village rebuilt? Or beneath the colorful paint, maybe it the same ugly place, where councilmembers discussed genocide behind closed doors.  
  
“Do you want some tea?” Sakura asked.  
  
“You always ask me that,” he muttered.  
  
She smiled. “Do I?”  
  
Sasuke didn’t protest as she vanished into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. They sipped their tea on Sakura’s couch. She sat on his left like she used to.

Holding an empty cup, Sasuke’s thoughts flowed freely. “Itachi gave his life for Konoha. I don’t want his sacrifice to be for nothing,” he said. “But the village doesn’t deserve him.”  
  
“Do you think Konoha could be a place worth Itachi’s sacrifice?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Sasuke said honestly. “What do you think?”  
  
Sakura’s hand was hovering over his shoulder. Sasuke leaned into her touch, because he needed it. Because it was her. It was no use putting up a front. She had accompanied him through more vulnerable moments than this. When Orochimaru bit the cursed mark into his skin. That night on the only road leaving the village. On the beach after his nightmare. After Itachi’s death. Somehow it was always her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we can find out together.”  
  
She stroked his back. At some point, Sasuke’s head dropped back to rest against the cushion. Her hand settled over his, fingers brushing the bone of his wrist. Time slowed, and his eyes fell shut.  
  
When Sasuke opened his eyes again, early morning dew quivered upon his hair and clothing. His head was clear, his body well-rested. Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo were clustered around a small fire. Steam rose from cups of tea in their hands.  
  
“Hey,” Karin said. The flames lit her face in red glow. “Feel better?”  
  
Sasuke sat beside the fire and pulled his cloak up to his chin. It was time they knew. 

“Madara told me something,” he began. 

Staring into the fire, he told his teammates everything. He did not look up to see their faces. Their silence told it all.  
  
When he was done, Jugo removed his own cloak and draped it over Sasuke’s shoulders. Karin poured him tea. 

“So,” Suigetsu said, pushing over his portion of breakfast. “This is why you want to tear down your village.”  
  
Sasuke closed his eyes. “That’s not what I want anymore.”  
  
“What do you want?” Karin asked.

In the distance, waves crashed. This land was colder and harsher than Sakura’s beach. Yet feeling the warmth of the cup, smelling the sea in the air, Sasuke thought she might appear around the bend, carrying a bucket of mussels or a blanket.

“I want to honor Itachi,” Sasuke said. “I’ll protect the village. But it needs to change, first.”

They discussed how to tear down and rebuild a village without touching its physical form. They made a new plan. It was straightforward: destabilize the council, the source of corruption in Konoha, by threatening, expelling, or killing its members. It was criminal, but they were already criminals.

When it was all decided, Sasuke said, “Let’s go.”  
  
“Eat something first,” Karin insisted. “And finish your tea.”  
  
He ate something. He finished his tea.

.

.

  
When they felt the shockwaves of Pain’s attack on the village, the hairs prickled on the back of Sasuke’s neck. Somewhere out there, he was meeting Sakura, and she was destroying a piece of Konoha herself to keep him from harm’s way.  
  
Jugo tilted his head in sympathy. “Someone stole your old idea.”  
  
“it will rebuild,” Sasuke said. “Our plan doesn’t change. Now’s the perfect time.”  
  
Through the Akatsuki network, they heard word of the Five Kage Summit. Danzo, the mastermind of the Konoha council, and acting Hokage of Konoha, would attend. Taking out Danzo was the perfect way to set their plan in action.  
  
They traveled across the land towards Snow. One night, Sasuke said to Karin, “I want to teach you something.” He had a certain technique in mind. After feeling the current of Karin’s chakra when she healed him, Sasuke knew she would take well to it.

.

.

  
They were on a bridge and Danzo held Karin’s body as a shield between himself and Sasuke.  
  
Danzo tightened his grip around Karin’s neck, testing how hard he would have to press for it to snap. “You will yield. Unless you want your teammate to die.” A whimper escaped her.  
  
Sasuke bared his teeth. “ _Karin_ ,” he urged.

Karin stretched back and pressed her hand to the side of Danzo’s neck. A thin blue arc of electricity erupted from her palm. His hold on her slackened. Karin knocked his arms away and blasted another strike of the chidori into his stomach.  
  
Danzo fell, his body twitching.  
  
The chirp of the chidori faded. “He’s yours,” Karin gasped, dropping to her knees.  
  
Sasuke plunged his blade through Danzo’s heart, pinning him to the dust and stone beneath.  
  
He supposed this was vengeance, but there was no thrill. His clan was still gone. Less straightforward and more difficult work lay ahead.  
  
Karin shifted to avoid the slick path of Danzo’s blood. She rubbed her neck, old tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.  
  
“Are you all right?” Sasuke asked, kneeling beside her.  
  
“I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks for teaching me your trick.”  
  
A quiet, wet cough escaped Danzo. Their gazes snapped up.  
  
“Take the sword out,” Karin advised. “He’ll die faster.”

.

.

  
The war broke out soon after Danzo’s death. Kabuto’s reanimation jutsu raised the dead. Sasuke and Itachi met and fought together again. Deep within a dark cave, they defeated Kabuto, ensnaring him within Itachi’s looping genjutsu.  
  
Outside in the daylight, Sasuke faced his brother. “I know the truth.”  
  
An unearthly shaft of light illuminated Itachi’s form. It emanated from a different sun than the one warming Sasuke’s face. Itachi blinked his Sharingan away. His dark eyes were soft, waiting for Sasuke’s verdict.  
  
“I will never forgive Konoha the way it currently exists.” Sasuke breathed in. “So I’m going to change everything.”  
  
Shadows teased the angles and grooves of his brother’s face. “You don’t need to do anything at all,” Itachi said. “It’s alright if you want to rest.”  
  
A lump grew in Sasuke’s throat.  
  
Itachi held the back of Sasuke’s head and pressed their foreheads together. His spectral flesh trembled with energy, like the beating of a bird’s wings, like a thought fluttering from Sasuke’s mind.  
  
“Whatever you do, I will love you always.”  
  
His brother dissolved into the still blue sky.

.

.

  
Taka was a day’s journey to the battlefield, the site of the Fourth Great Shinobi War. They set up camp and Sasuke settled into his bedroll. When he slipped, it was gentle, like falling asleep.

He was in a dark bedroom. A Sakura of his own age rolled over in her bed, and sat up.  
  
“Which Sasuke are you?” she asked.  
  
He sat on the edge of her bed. “I met Itachi again. The war is starting.”  
  
“Ah,” Sakura said. Her bare leg pressed against his as she settled next to him.  
  
“Which Sakura are you?”  
  
“The war is over for me,” she said. “About a year now.”  
  
“I’m going to fight with you,” Sasuke said. What better way to protect the village?  
  
Sakura smiled. “I know.”

Sasuke stretched out a hand and paused a hair’s breadth apart from her cheek. Sakura turned her head so his fingertips brushed her skin.  
  
Now that they were touching, Sasuke couldn’t stop himself. He touched the mark on her forehead, the one he still didn’t know about, and traced down her jaw, her collarbone.  
  
“Why is it always you?” he wondered, though he was starting to understand.  
  
She covered his hand with hers. “Your hand is cold,” she murmured, lips parting.

Sasuke couldn’t wait any longer to kiss her. He touched his lips to hers. It occurred to him that maybe he should have waited for the Sakura that occupied the same time and space as him. But this Sakura sighed, and opened her mouth against his, and his mind emptied. The soft movement of their lips made his stomach lurch, like he was falling. Afraid he would slip away, he clutched Sakura tighter, urging time to still and keep him here a little longer.

Sakura pulled away, a silent stream of tears wetting her cheeks.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Sasuke whispered.  
  
“I miss you,” she said. 

“Don’t.” Sasuke brushed the tears away. His hand lingered, cradling her face. “I’ll be with you soon.” 

He felt a pang of irritation considering his future self. Why wasn’t he here, comforting her? Where else would he be?

Sakura pulled him into a tight embrace. Her body was still warm from sleep. Sasuke’s lips grazed the skin of her throat. 

Sasuke jolted upright in his bedroll. In the dark, he touched his fingers to his mouth, and breathed. 

It was not long before he saw Sakura again in his own time.  
.

.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, he slipped. For the first time, he did not see Sakura. He met someone else.

“You’re not Sakura,” he observed.

“No,” the young woman said, “I’m not.”

He was in Konoha, but not the Konoha he knew.

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> We'll see what Sakura has been up to this whole time. 
> 
> Notes:  
> The next (and remaining) four chapters will be from Sakura's perspective. Thank you so much for reading and following this fic! Every bit of feedback means so much to me. I read your comments aloud to my partner...


	5. sakura

**pt 5: sakura**

* * *

After Sasuke left, Sakura woke up alone on a bench just as the sky began to lighten.

She rubbed the goosebumps on her bare arms. The aching pressure of a sob churned in her chest, but she could not cry.

Someone sat next to her. She recognized the line of his shoulders before she recognized his face.

Sasuke's jaw was sharper, his hair tied back and long enough to graze his shoulder blades. Mismatched eyes—red and purple—met hers before fading into their familiar dark.

He frowned. "You're cold." His voice was quieter, deeper than the voice of her Sasuke. He shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and offered it to her.

Sakura accepted, too stunned to speak. There was no need to voice the obvious. He was not the Sasuke she knew.

"I always wondered how you knew I was leaving," he said.

Sakura burrowed inside the cloak, still warm from his body. The fabric was soft, sun-worn, and smelled like salt. "Because I know you," she answered.

Sasuke smiled, and Sakura's head cleared. He had left, but he was here again. That had to mean something.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice trembled, but the knot in her throat was loosening.

The first rays of sun peeked over the horizon, lighting the treetops in gold. "I need to tell you something."

As dawn rose, Sasuke told her about his time-slipping, about the Rinnegan, that she should expect more appearances in the years to come. Sakura listened in a rapture. When he revealed the truth behind the massacre of the Uchiha clan, her tears finally fell. In the morning light, the village appeared ghostly, like bones bleaching in the sun.

"Will you ever come back?" Sakura asked, when everything was said.

"Yes," Sasuke said.

She dried her eyes on the collar of his cloak. "Do you promise?"

"I promise," he said. "We'll meet again soon."

"How long?"

"Five years or so, for you." His brow furrowed. "I'm sorry. You'll need to be patient with me."

"I'll be here when you're ready," she said.

Smiling again, Sasuke tapped the center of her brow with two gentle fingers. "You're with me right now."

A rush of questions flooded Sakura's mind, but they were out of time. Sasuke frowned, rubbing his temples, and Sakura took this to mean he was about to leave. She passed the cloak into his lap.

Sasuke slipped away like ducking underwater, leaving behind a quiet ripple of his presence.

When Naruto and Kakashi found her, the village had already woken up. Traffic clattered from the nearby main streets, and curtains fluttered from open windows. Someone nearby was grilling fish for breakfast.

"He's gone," Sakura said.

For a beat, Naruto and Kakashi said nothing. They searched Sakura's expression, giving her the opportunity to grieve, if she wanted to. But Sakura's breathing remained calm.

Kakashi lifted the hitai-ate obscuring his left eye. His gaze shone with regret. "This is my fault." At this, Sakura's lip started trembling.

Naruto's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "I'm going after him," he snarled.

"There's no need, Naruto." Sakura gripped the stone of the bench. "He'll come back one day."

.

.

Sakura trained under Tsunade and grew strong. She learned how to tear open the earth and to mend bones. How to store her chakra drop by drop, so one day it would become a vast ocean under her control.

Two years passed before she saw Sasuke again. It occurred in her own time. He perched on the rim of the cliff outside Orochimaru's hideout, wind lifting his robes. A purple obi ensnared his waist. With the sun at his back, he looked more shadow than boy. His eyes held nothing when he looked at her—neither interest nor contempt.

Then he said, "Sakura." He exhaled her name like a breath, like he didn't even realize he was saying it.

It still hurt when they failed to convince him to return, even if it was what Sakura expected.

The trip back to Konoha was solemn. Naruto was shaken and quiet, and even Sai wisely held his tongue. They traveled through the night until Captain Yamato constructed a temporary wooden shelter with four separate rooms.

When she was alone, Sakura held her head in her hands. She tried to fit the Sasuke she just saw into her knowledge of him. He was longer her teammate, and he was far from the man who had chosen to tie his hair back. He was somewhere in between, somewhere lost, with a long way to go.

"Sakura?"

Sasuke, exactly as she remembered from their genin days, inspected her wet face. All his questions stopped. He grasped her hand and looked stubbornly away, daring her to state what they both knew. It was not his way to freely offer a comforting touch.

Sakura closed her eyes. Sasuke had promised to return, but she never would have doubted it on her own.

.

.

"The daimyo wants to drain a lake to build another summer palace, and the council says they have the funds to spare," Tsunade spat, shoving a mountain of paperwork in Sakura's direction. "But there's nothing in the budget for the civilian guilds?"

Sighing in sympathy, Sakura pulled her favorite chair to Tsunade's desk. She flipped through the paperwork, signing a perfect copy of the Hokage's signature on each page. Tsunade filled two glasses with amber liquid, set one beside her student, and settled behind her own tower of paper. This was their evening ritual.

Signing her name with angry flourishes, Tsunade muttered, "Three years as Hokage and I can't get anything done."

Each day, Sakura watched Tsunade fight the council tooth and nail to implement her vision for the village. Each day, the council blocked her every move.

Sakura's pen stilled. Tsunade did not know the truth of the Uchiha massacre. Was it right to tell her?

"Tsunade-shishou…" she began, then the words froze on her tongue.

Her teacher raised an eyebrow. "Spit it out," she urged.

"Have you ever thought that the council might be doing more harm than good?"

This was a radical view. Many citizens of Konoha supported the council in their decision-making. The village was prosperous and powerful. There was no reason to ask deeper questions.

Tsunade was silent for a breath too long, revealing her answer. Teacher and student gazed at each other with a new understanding.

Sakura's hands shook. "There is something you should know."

The council met in an imposing structure set behind the largest gate in the village. Since few windows penetrated its thick walls, the building's interior remained cold and dim no matter the season. When darkness fell, Tsunade and Sakura snuck inside and entered the archive.

After undoing a genjutsu, breaking the ninjutsu seal on a wooden chest, and snapping a plain lock in half, they uncovered the file detailing plans behind the Uchiha massacre.

The scroll was thin. It did not take much space on a page at all to massacre a clan.

Sakura read it first. It was one thing to hear the truth from Sasuke. It was another to see it confirmed in writing, signed by the leaders of the village, and stamped in approval. When she saw the Third Hokage's signature, her heart panged. Sarutobi-sama had always been kind to her. Yet he had known and approved of this plan. Was it a betrayal, or a requirement of his position? Which was worse?

"This village is rotten to the core," Tsunade muttered after closing the scroll. "Is this why your teammate left?"

"No," Sakura said. "He doesn't know the truth yet."

"How did you think to look for this?"

"I was close with Sasuke," she offered, not meeting her teacher's eyes. "I had a suspicion."

Tsunade did not push further. She pressed her lips together, rubbed the space between her eyebrows. For once, the ageless face of Sakura's teacher looked tired.

"We carve our faces into the cliff as if we have something to celebrate," she said. "As if we owe our greatness to the world. But it's all a lie."

Huddled next to Tsunade, surrounded by the archive's chilly secrets, Sakura swore to make the village a better place by the time Sasuke returned.

.

.

"No surprise, Sakura. They denied your plans." Tsunade stamped a document hard enough to shake her entire desk. "Danzo told me personally."

Sakura clenched her fists, but she was not surprised. Last week Tsunade refused to shut down an investigation into the Hyuuga clan's use of branding. Now, the council had coincidentally tabled Sakura's sensible proposal to construct a pediatric wing of the hospital.

This was not Sakura's first roadblock. Last month, the council canceled their first meeting with Sakura's newly-established civilian board, citing scheduling conflicts, and dodged all attempts to reschedule. Not long before, they implied that unless Tsunade agreed to spare three extra jonin for the daimyo's entourage, they might not find funds to spare for Sakura's medic training program. Each time, Danzo delivered the news with a modest smile, as if he were pouring her a cup of tea and expecting gratitude in response.

The more Sakura's plans fizzled out, the more she feared Konoha could never change.

Sometimes Sakura imagined herself leaving the village. She thought about it the same way she thought about embracing the next Sasuke she saw. It was not a real possibility, but the idea floated in her head, and sometimes hurt to think about.

She could live alone somewhere. Maybe by the ocean. Her brain conjured all the details: fresh, salty air. Seabirds screeching and plummeting into the water. The temperamental sand shifting under her feet. There would be nothing to fix. Nothing would require changing. Maybe she would find peace.

Sakura worked hard to improve the village, but she did not buy the plant Ino suggested would flourish in the morning light of her bedroom. She stored every scrap of chakra away for her future seal. She did not spend money except when her friends dragged her to dinner. She thought about the Sasuke who smelled like salt. She dreamt about the ocean.

.

.

When Sasuke appeared next, it was at the worst possible time, and that's what she told him. She had a village to defend and to heal.

Sasuke was closer, somehow. He wore the obi, but his eyes were brighter. He did not hesitate to approach her and to call out her name. Sakura wished he had stayed long enough for her to heal the wound on his head.

The battle worsened. A hoard of Katsuyu's summons under Sakura's command saved the hospital and the old Uchiha compound from destruction, but Pain's attack leveled much of Konoha to the ground.

Tsunade sank into a coma. Shizune and Sakura tended to the wrecked village.

Captain Yamato was reconstructing Konoha by himself when Sakura stepped in. In his patient voice, he taught her the basics of woodstyle. At first she could only summon twigs and vines. Her wood produced too much foliage, inhibiting its use as a building material. She persevered. By the end of the month, she was by his side, reimagining and rebuilding Konoha, coaxing the surrounding forest to regrow.

Sakura and Yamato faced the empty land where the council building once stood.

"I have an idea," Sakura said, "though it isn't traditional."

"By all means," Yamato said.

Sakura pressed her hands together. Wood coiled into the air and formed a new type of building. It was small and modest with an unadorned facade. A large window opened upon the council gathering space. Where the gate once existed, she created a square for the citizens of Konoha to gather. The council's discussions could no longer occur in private, outside the public eye.

It was no trivial responsibility to possess the skills to rebuild a village. If she could carve out a window when before there was none, create a new space for people to breathe, she would.

.

.

"Sakura, you have too many jobs," Ino complained.

"I am a simple student," Sakura denied, though Ino was right. In Tsunade's absence, Sakura's role in the village took on more of a political nature than ever.

After the council appointed Danzo as the temporary Hokage, she and Shizune fought to maintain Tsunade's policies and legislation under his strict rule. During council meetings, she served as Tsunade's representative. In between these responsibilities, Sakura squeezed in training and shifts at the hospital.

This meant Sakura did not have time in her schedule to eat dinner with both Ino and Naruto in one week, so she requested they meet together. Her two friends disrupted the peaceful evening of every Konoha resident with their public debate over where to eat before Ino finally threw up her hands.

Naruto slurped his Ichiraku's ramen. "You're a student, a shinobi, an architect..."

"...a medic, a politician," Ino picked up. She considered. "A large-forehead-bearer."

"Pig," Sakura responded fondly. She eyed Naruto. "Dobe," she said, using Sasuke's word without thinking, and the cheerful mood dampened.

Ino set her teacup on the table with a soft clink. "Have you heard anything?"

Naruto sighed. "The teme is up to some shit."

Sakura chewed her lip. The last they'd heard, Sasuke had formed a team and joined the Akatsuki. _Five years or so_ , Sasuke had promised. Over four years had passed since that day.

Just as a lump formed in Sakura's throat, Ino squeezed her shoulder. "Let's walk to the square, later," she suggested. "It's great, but I think it could use a few more places to sit."

They walked to the square. Sakura twisted wood into benches and placed them according to Ino's vision.

"Beautiful work. But what about trees? Some shade would be nice," Ino said. "Don't you think, Naruto?"

"Eh? But it's night–– _ow_ ," Naruto gasped, as Ino elbowed him in the ribs. "I mean, absolutely. Could use some greenery, and all that."

Sakura's hands flew through the signs. Trees sprouted in each corner of the square, growing taller than the nearby council building, than any building in the village.

The transformation was immediate. Soft murmurs of rustling leaves replaced silence. A bird landed upon a branch. From where they were standing, the newly born foliage obscured the faces carved into the Hokage Mountain. In the silver wash of the moon, it appeared as if they grew over the mountain itself, a tangle of wood and leaf and stone.

Without speaking, the three of them sat together on the nearest bench, inaugurating the new space.

"This was a good idea, Ino," Sakura said.

Ino and Naruto raised eyebrows at each other.

"Do you feel better, Forehead?"

Gazing at the treetops, Sakura found herself smiling. She felt better.

.

.

Sakura was listening to a council meeting with detached resentment when news broke of Danzo's death.

Tsumiki Kido, Danzo's closest confidant on the council, called for a moment of silence. As councilmembers bowed their heads, Sakura's heart raced. She and Shizune shared a careful glance.

When the moment was done, Tsumiki shook his head. "It is clear Uchiha Sasuke has outgrown his usefulness."

"He is a criminal and an enemy," another voice chimed in.

Sakura already knew there was a future waiting for Sasuke. He would live to meet her on that bench. Still, her blood ran cold.

"The boy has shown his true colors," Tsumiki replied. "Who will his next target be? How else will he terrorize our beloved village?"

As evenly as she could manage, Sakura said, "Konoha will never be the same after Danzo-sama's loss." She lowered her head, and faces around the table followed suit. "He displayed the Will of Fire until the end. It is evident he made a great sacrifice for the village, a sacrifice we must not undermine."

Tsumiki frowned and opened his mouth.

"Don't you see?" Sakura interjected, meeting the eyes of each councilmember. "Danzo-sama could easily defeat any enemy. In his wisdom, he understood that Uchiha Sasuke's continued wellbeing is in the best interest of the village. The Uchiha clan's doujutsu, the Sharingan, is a valuable tool. Only Sasuke possesses this skill, now that his brother Itachi is dead."

When several heads nodded, Sakura frowned and looked to the ceiling. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, as if in thought. "I'm happy to volunteer to look through our archives on the Uchiha clan. I'm certain I'll find useful information that illustrates how having an Uchiha in service of the village is beneficial. Perhaps I'll uncover other skills, other histories, that are useful to know. We keep good records, after all."

The younger members of the council did not blink, but Sakura watched key faces twitch. Their eyes bored into her, wondering if the words archive, Itachi, records, all said in the same context, were a coincidence.

As silence fell, the public square outside remained lively. Two elderly civilians took a seat upon one of the newly crafted benches. A shuriken thunked against the large window overlooking the meeting space. Children's laughter sounded, then a group of young Academy students raced to retrieve their object.

Tsumiki's lips pressed together in a thin line. "That won't be necessary."

All talk of retaliation against Sasuke ceased. Discussion turned to Danzo's funeral preparations, then to candidates for the next acting Hokage. Sakura suggested Kakashi. The council grumbled, but it was a good suggestion.

"You spoke well, but that was a risk," Shizune said later. "They will be upset."

.

.

Sakura was scrubbing her hands after a surgery when she heard that Tsunade was awake.

She burst into the room. Shizune lifted her tear-streaked face and smiled. Tsunade sat upright in her bed, young and fresh as ever, as if awaking from a catnap rather than a deathly coma. Her teacher was not physically affectionate, but she returned Sakura's tight embrace with no reservations, and brushed the uncombed hair away from her face.

"You've both been busy," Tsunade said, after Sakura and Shizune explained everything she had missed. She eyed Sakura, inspecting the dark circles under her student's eyes. "Don't give too much away. You can't heal or fight or fix this damn village if you don't keep anything for yourself."  
.

.

Sakura was on the battlefield. She saw his shadow before she saw him, that familiar line of his shoulders.  
.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> Sasuke and Sakura meet again.
> 
> Notes:  
> double cliffhanger...don't be mad? :) though i hope some of your questions are starting to be answered. 
> 
> also, we're more than halfway through now! this chapter through the end were the hardest to write--thank you for following along with me!


	6. time

**pt 6: time**

* * *

Whispers ignited, naming the figure before them.

Here was the sole survivor of the Uchiha massacre. The former Konoha genin with promising skill and power. The rogue nin, the traitor. The Akatsuki member, the criminal, the political adversary and enemy to the village.

Sasuke turned his head to scan the crowd. He stopped when his eyes found Sakura's.

Here was Sasuke, in the same place and time as her.

"I'm here to fight alongside you," he announced. He was speaking to everyone, but looking at Sakura.

Sakura couldn't move. Everywhere around her, a wave was crashing.

Naruto darted towards Sasuke, buzzing with joy. His loud voice carried as he introduced himself to Sasuke's three teammates.

Sakura took a short step forward and halted. Her chakra network hummed with energy, swirling within the internal reserves she had created and filled to the brim over the past five years. It was time for every long, drawn out thing she had been waiting for to unfold at once.

Just over the rocky ledge, the battle was calling. Impatient, and finished with introductions and reintroductions, Naruto bounded away to join the fight.

Sasuke was waiting. "Sakura. Aren't you coming?"

With that, she knew where they stood. The wind stirred his long hair––long enough to tie back, though he hadn't decided to yet. He wasn't the man who had offered her his cloak, but he was the closest she had ever seen.

"Sasuke-kun," she sighed out, eyes falling shut. "I need a moment…"

With three deep breaths, the seal grew into existence on the center of her brow.

When she opened her eyes, Sasuke was smiling at her.

They entered the fray together.

.

.

Gripping Obito's shoulders, Sakura released her seal. With her borrowed energy, Obito harnessed the power of his Rinnegan and tore a portal into the air.

They flitted between dimensions, searching for Sasuke. Snowflakes blew into their faces, then the scent of a forest, then a puff of hot dry air.

Sakura gasped. "There!"

Sasuke stood on the tip of a distant sand dune. Sakura couldn't hear a thing with how loudly the blood pumped in her ears. She tightened her hold on Obito and burned through her chakra, funneling it all into him. Obito grunted with the desperate effort of keeping the portal open. His shoulders shook under Sakura's touch.

Sasuke raced towards them, kicking up clouds of red sand in his wake.

The portal flickered shut like a breath to a flame. _No_ , she thought.

She didn't know she was falling back until something solid and warm stopped her fall.

Sasuke's mismatched eyes, two deep wells of red and purple, met hers.

" _Yokatta_ ," she breathed. Sasuke squeezed her shoulder. Though they had not touched in years, he held her perfectly, with a surety and firmness that made Sakura feel weightless. Her head fell back upon the crook of his neck.

"Hm. You lied to me, Sasuke," Obito said.

"Takes a liar to know one," Sasuke said. Tucked so close, Sakura felt the vibration of his voice in his throat.

"For me, it was two people," Obito said, standing. "My old teammates."

Sakura did not know what this meant. She lifted her head. Sasuke pressed her more firmly to his side.

Obito addressed Sakura. "You okay, kid? You've got quite a lot of chakra, but that was rough."

"I'm fine now," she said, righting herself on her feet. Sasuke's hand did not drop from her arm. "Thank you for helping."

Obito nodded. Sakura glanced at Sasuke and only then did he let her go.

They fought together. They took down the moon.

Old rivalries outlasted the war. Sasuke and Naruto bristled as they faced each other, itching to continue an unresolved battle. The tomoe of Sasuke's Sharingan spun. Naruto clenched a fist, eyebrows drawn.

Sakura stepped between them. "Don't."

Naruto and Sasuke breathed heavily. Finally, Sasuke blinked. His eyes faded to their normal darkness. Naruto sighed, and the tension left his shoulders.

Sakura didn't use her strength. She didn't forcefully pull them apart. She asked, and they listened. Her word was the only convincing they needed.

Sakura lit her palms in green chakra. "Sit down. You both look a mess," she ordered. They obeyed. She knelt and healed them at the same time. When they were both in good shape, she healed the shallow scratch on Sasuke's cheek, though Tsunade would have called it a waste of chakra. At her touch on his face, Sasuke closed his eyes.

"You're both idiots." She meant to sound angry, but her voice shook. "What's the point in fighting each other? There are better battles."

Naruto's mouth twisted into a sheepish grin. He placed a hand on her back. "Sorry, Sakura-chan."

"I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you." Sasuke stared down at his clasped hands. "And that it's taken me so long."

Unable to speak, Sakura nodded. She sat between her boys. Kakashi approached and joined them.

They did not linger for long. They had a world to reawaken. But they spent a moment together in the silence. Enough time to mourn, to breathe, to watch a glimmer of light shine through the thick clouds.

.

.

The afternoon sun glared down on Sakura's back as she made her way through the loud and crowded allied forces encampment. She paused to shed her medic apron.

An insistent, waving hand caught her attention. "Sakura-chan!" Naruto shouted, sitting in the shade of a tent next to three other shinobi. "Come meet my new friends!"

Sakura wiped the sweat from her brow and drew closer. The faces of Sasuke's teammates came into focus.

"This is Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin," Naruto announced, pointing. Suigetsu, polishing the blade of his sword with loving strokes, flashed a wide grin. Jugo blinked placidly in her direction and continued whittling a chunk of wood with a kunai. Karin looked to the left of Sakura's face and frowned.

"It's nice to meet you all," Sakura said, resisting an urge to rub the back of her neck. She was not nervous earlier, stabilizing the condition of a shinobi bleeding out on her operating table, but she was nervous now, facing Sasuke's teammates.

"You've got some blood in your hair," Karin remarked.

Sakura felt her face fall. "Oh," she said, a hand darting to find the offending strand.

Karin produced a cloth from her satchel, wet it with drinking water, and held it out with a smirk. Sakura accepted it with a rush of relief.

"Taka's been filling me in on what they've been up to," Naruto explained. Karin shifted in the tent's shadow, leaving room for Sakura to sit.

"Traveling, fighting, crime," Suigetsu summarized with a wink in Sakura's direction.

"Bickering," Jugo supplied, flicking away a curl of wood from the form in his hands.

Naruto barked out a laugh, and a grin rose to Sakura's face. "What about?" she asked. They also shared memories of bickering with Sasuke.

Karin's head snapped to the side, aiming a loaded look at Suigetsu.

Suigetsu sulked. "We have a difference in opinion about meal preparation."

"And why is that?" Karin prompted.

"Sasuke says 'onion skins aren't edible' and I'll 'ruin the meal,' or whatever," Suigetsu explained, with a passable impression of Sasuke's voice. "I'm not allowed to cook anymore. Can you believe that, Sakura-chan?" he asked.

"How awful," Sakura said with a smile, smoothing her hair.

"You missed a spot," Karin said. "Let me." She took over cleaning Sakura's hair, wetting then combing it through with her fingers. This sensation combined with the warm sun on her face had Sakura fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Are you going to braid each other's hair next?" Suigetsu jeered.

"If you want me to braid your hair, Suigetsu, you can just ask," Karin scoffed.

Suigetsu grinned at himself in the reflection of his blade. "Do you think it would suit me?"

After inspecting Suigetsu with narrowed eyes, Jugo shared a thoughtful look with Naruto. Naruto spoke for the both of them. "Why not?" he said.

Karin rolled her eyes and released Sakura's hair. "You're set," she said. "I have to say, it's nice to spend time with people beyond my idiot teammates."

"Speaking of idiots, where is Sasuke?" Naruto asked, voicing the very question on Sakura's mind.

"Karin sent him to find water," Suigetsu said.

"Ages go." Karin waved a hand. "He disappears sometimes, and thinks we don't notice." Suigetsu and Jugo shrugged in agreement without looking up from their respective tasks. Sakura tried not to look too interested.

"Ha!" Naruto exclaimed. "Sounds just like the bastard."

Jugo coughed softly and presented his finished carving to Naruto. "A toad for the toad sage," he said.

Naruto's eyes bugged out in surprise. "It's _mine_?" He turned the figurine over in his hands. "Jugo, you're amazing, 'yanno?"

As Naruto sang Jugo's praises, Sakura caught sight of a cloak and travel pack resting near the entrance of the tent. Her heart panged, knowing they belonged to Sasuke. He had folded and arranged his cloak neatly atop the pack just like he used to when they were genin. The left strap was rumpled and dirty, because that was the side he liked to grip when he walked a long distance. Despite the years, Sasuke went through the world with the same touch.

Sakura wanted to wait for Sasuke to return with the water, to sit and talk all together, and witness two teams merging into one. But her medic-nin duties called. She waved farewell and left for the infirmary tent.

By the time her shift ended, the sky was pink and orange, illuminating the rocky landscape in a warm glow. Sakura stepped outside the tent and stretched, settling back in her own body after hours spent in the flow of healing. Her vision swam with images of fractured radius and ulna bones, the type of injury the White Zetsu Army most commonly inflicted. It was a good shot––targeting the arms meant shinobi could not easily cast ninjutsu. Her hands almost hummed with the precise quantity of chakra needed to set and mend the bone.

"Sakura," called a quiet voice.

Sakura rubbed her eyes. "Don't tell me it's another proximal forearm fracture."

The medic did not respond. A gust of wind blew through the encampment, carrying the scent of stony soil and juniper. Sakura opened her eyes and nearly jumped. Sasuke stood before her.

She scrambled to place him. He had appeared with little warning, but he looked a lot like the Sasuke of her time, with long, unruly hair and mismatched eyes.

"Are you…are you _my_ Sasuke?" she blurted, instantly lamenting her choice of words.

His mouth quirked. "I'm your Sasuke," he confirmed.

"I see," Sakura said, fighting the wave of heat rising to her cheeks. Sasuke remained silent, content to watch her struggle for words. Finally, she let out a breath. "We have a lot to talk about."

"We can start now," he offered.

To steady the uneven pace of her heart, she stalled. "I don't remember you being so willing to have a conversation."

"I've waited a long time to talk to you, Sakura."

A buzz filled Sakura's ears, calm and quiet, like plunging underwater. She had been waiting, too, from the instant she had blinked awake on that cold stone bench. Could it be true that her waiting was done?

Under Sasuke's attentive gaze, Sakura recounted each moment she witnessed him slipping through time and all that occurred in between. Halfway through describing Pain's attack, a medic-nin jostled shoulders with Sakura on their way into the infirmary tent. Sasuke's fingers brushed Sakura's elbow, a suggestion to move three paces to the left.

Sakura lost her train of thought. "What has it been like for you?" she asked, as Sasuke's touch vanished.

"What do you want to know?"

"How often do you slip?"

"It depends," he said. "Sometimes I slipped every night. Sometimes, years passed in between."

"What does it feel like?"

"A bit like falling."

Sakura frowned as Sasuke's earlier words registered. "Exactly how many times has it happened?"

"I've seen you countless times." His brow furrowed. "I always went to you, except once," he said, but Sakura barely heard him.

"Countless times?" she repeated, raking through her memory of their conversation on the bench––a conversation that replayed in her mind every single day. "You didn't tell me it was like that."

"I'm telling you now," he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Sakura shook her head. She thought she'd known everything there was to know. "What happened the last time you saw me?"

A glint grew in Sasuke's eye. "You'll see."

Something about his expression made Sakura's mind go blank. "I...I can't think of any more questions right now."

"Fine," Sasuke said. "We have time."

They had time.

 _He could use a haircut_ , Sakura thought, looking up. They were standing close enough that if she reached a hand out, she could easily brush away the dark hair threatening to fall in his eyes.

"Oi, teme, Sakura-chan!"

Sakura blinked and took a step back. Her legs were tired from standing, and the steady flow of foot traffic around them was gone.

Naruto approached the tent, hoisting a sword as tall as Sakura over his shoulder. "What's taking you two so long?" he demanded.

Suigetsu burst around the bend. "I need that back now––"

"The food is ready and Karin's getting mad," Naruto said, returning the Executioner's Blade into Suigetsu's protective hands.

"I just polished it," Suigetsu muttered to himself, rubbing his sleeve over an invisible smudge.

Sasuke turned to Sakura. "I was supposed to tell you that you're invited to dinner."

Before accepting his invitation, Sakura marveled how they had talked long enough for the moon to rise in the sky, to cast the elegant features of Sasuke's face in a silver glow. All this time passed and he was still here with her, not slipping away into thin air. He was not going anywhere.

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> Sasuke is back. The seasons pass.
> 
> Notes:  
> early update, bc i couldn't wait to share this chapter. as always, please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading :)
> 
> ps, you can also find me on tumblr (catflorist) and twitter (@catfloriste) for additional ramblings


	7. seasons

**pt 7: seasons**

* * *

SUMMER

Flowers and garlands decorated the village square, packed with bodies wearing their finest clothes. The guests milled about endless rows of chairs, gathered under the shadow of trees, and stood on benches for the best view. Heads were turning to the podium, and chatter was beginning to die—Sakura made it just in time. Her geta tapped out her quick steps as she weaved her way to the front row.

"You're late," Sasuke muttered, removing his haori from the seat next to him. How he succeeded in saving a place, she didn't know. The square appeared to contain every chair in the village, and still the crowd spilled into the streets.

Sakura smoothed the skirt of her pink dress. "It was your fault," she said, settling in her chair.

Halfway through shrugging the haori over his shoulders, Sasuke halted, peering at her face with new scrutiny. Sakura peered back, comparing this Sasuke, in his formal wear, breeze rustling the hair he asked her to trim a few days ago, with the Sasuke she just met—bleeding and weary-eyed, wearing a purple obi and a permanent scowl.

"How is your head?" she asked.

A smile grew on Sasuke's lips.

Sakura wanted to enjoy Sasuke's smile for longer, but she felt eyes boring into the back of her neck. Across the crowd, Tsumiki Kido turned his head, too late to disguise his staring.

Sasuke frowned, following her gaze. "Who is that man?"

"Someone who isn't happy you're back in the village," Sakura said. A chill traveled down her spine, though it did not matter now if Tsumiki or other members of the council saw them together. As a war hero, owner of two legendary doujutsu, and friend to herself, Naruto, and the Rokudaime Hokage, Sasuke was untouchable.

"Are you happy?" Sasuke asked, eyes stern.

"Of course I am," Sakura said.

"Then I have no other concerns," he dismissed. For the second time that day, pink tinged Sakura's cheeks, and she found herself at a loss for words.

A bright, cloudless blue sky shimmered above, promising to give way to a clear and starry night. When the wedding ceremony was over, they offered Hinata and Naruto their congratulations together.

.

.

FALL

In the warm climate of Fire country, the changing of seasons was gentle, but distinct. A chill grew in the air each day until it was difficult to remember anything different.

The moon hung in the sky when Sakura left the hospital one night. She worked late, reinvigorating her proposal to create a pediatric center at the hospital. Besides on-call staff, the only person working later than her was Karin. After sharing one of Orochimaru's radical techniques to preserve chakra network samples, the scientists of the research lab had claimed her of one of their own.

Walking through the quiet and peaceful streets on the way home, Sakura was confident she would not face rejection this time. The village was changing.

Sakura approached her building. A carving of a blooming tree decorated the door. Jugo's artisanry had quickly gained Konoha's attention. His work was everywhere around the village––hand-painted signs, wooden figurines and statues, delicate carvings around door frames. After Suigetsu asked Jugo to create wooden shuriken for his three Academy students, it seemed every young student passing by held one in hand. Reaching for her keys, Sakura pictured wooden carvings on the walls of her pediatric center.

She was not alone.

"Sasuke-kun," she murmured. He was bonier than she remembered him being. His jaw was only beginning to sharpen. "I see. You're leaving now, aren't you?"

She already knew the answer. It was obvious in the way his hands trembled, in the way shadows were collecting in his eyes. He was clutching the left strap of his backpack. Against the warm hues of her street, he was a patch of deep blue and darkness, a shard fallen from the night sky. This was Sasuke on the night he left the village.

A street lamp buzzed and flickered on. When the light caught his face, his cheeks glistened. He took a small step towards her and exhaled a ragged breath.

This was too much for Sakura. She knew what it was like to be left behind. To face his back and beg him to stay, trying to glean from the still line of his shoulders if her words were working. She did not know, all the while, this was what leaving was like for him.

"Wait," she pleaded, but even before the word formed on her tongue, he was gone.

Sakura's feet led her to Sasuke's apartment. He opened the door after the first knock.

"Sakura," he said, opening the door wider.

One step forward was all Sakura needed to take. Sasuke's arms surrounded her without hesitation, as if waiting all this time for the sign to hold her close.

"I just saw you," she murmured, lips brushing his throat. "You were leaving…"

"I'm not leaving anymore," he promised.

"I missed you," she said, though they had eaten together yesterday, and he had walked her home the day before that. There was hardly a day since he returned to the village that they had not seen each other.

Sasuke's chest rose and fell with a soft sigh. "We are tied together." He said it in the same way someone might say _the sun is up_ or _north is this way._

 _Was it always like this?_ Sakura wondered.

Sasuke reached for her hand. "I want to always be near you," he confessed.

Sakura brushed the hair out of his eyes, traced his cheek, his brow bone. He blinked, and his eyelashes kissed her fingers. The rings of his left eye were like the ripples a stone made as it fell through the surface of water.

"I never stopped loving you," she said. "I love you as much as I did then."

Sasuke's forehead fell against hers, waiting for her kiss. Sakura did not leave him waiting.

.

.

WINTER

Sasuke appeared in Sakura's apartment in the middle of the night, wearing the Akatsuki robes, carrying the weight of a decision. He fell asleep on her couch. It was a long time before he slipped away.

When she was alone, Sakura removed her robe, which she had worn to conceal the Uchiha crest on the back of her borrowed shirt. She returned to her room and settled back next to Sasuke, asleep and unworried, in her bed.

.

.

SPRING

Before Sasuke climbed in through the window of her third-story office, Sakura was basking in the glow of good news.

She read the message on her desk for the third time. Out of the blue, the council greenlighted her pediatric center, offering her a budget larger than she had dreamed. It was enough to build a facility solely dedicated to children's health. No child in the village would ever be left behind again, the way Naruto and Sasuke were.

A soft footfall interrupted Sakura's thoughts of all the work ahead. Sasuke dropped inside the room, the scent of pollen and oncoming rain drifting in behind him.

Sakura leapt up from her desk and locked the door. "What's wrong?"

"I just received this from the council," he said, passing her a scroll before blinking away his Sharingan.

With trembling fingers, Sakura read over Sasuke's new mission assignment.

The scroll described a mission of indefinite length. A haphazard journey across the shinobi world, doing nothing in particular. Escort this noble. Deliver this message. Check on the status of this favor. Refusing the mission, or failing the mission's terms, meant abstaining Konoha citizenship and willfully accepting exile. The text outlined required checkpoints every five days, the first in Suna.

Sakura threw the scroll to the ground, cracking the wooden spindle within. Suna was a two-week journey from Konoha for the fastest of travelers. There was nothing subtle about the council's true intentions.

"Tsumiki Kido delivered the message," Sasuke said, his face even. "He said it would prove my loyalty to Konoha."

"They can't do this," Sakura spat. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to!"

Sasuke gripped her wrist. "He said leaving would be in my best interest, if I cared about the wellbeing of the village."

A buzz filled Sakura's ears. The threat was a familiar one. It reused works she had spoken herself, in a council meeting before the war, as she pulled dangerous strings to keep Sasuke safe.

 _They will be upset_ , Shizune had warned.

"We don't have to accept this. We can change things," Sakura said. "Right now. We've already done impossible things..."

A just, peaceful, village was not too much to ask for. Sakura's surroundings faded away, a plan organizing in her mind. She and Sasuke comprised two-thirds of the new generation of Sannin. With Naruto's influence, they could sway their old classmates, and other skilled shinobi, to their cause. They could reach out to Gaara, who had already implemented structural change in the Sand. Tsunade and Kakashi could leverage their political power and Hinata could reach the Hyuuga clan. Sakura herself carried a well-loved reputation among civilians and in the broader world. If anything, they could use brute force to overthrow Konoha's government. They were not powerless, especially not with the help of their teammates, friends, and allies. They could shape their own world and the future they wanted.

Sasuke shook his head. "They wanted my clan dead, so they killed them. Now they want me to go. I can't risk anyone else being hurt." His hand on her wrist tightened, like holding a lifeline. "I can't lose you."

Sakura's mind stopped spinning. "All right," she whispered. "Then I'll come with you."

"You have matters here." Sasuke placed a second scroll back on her desk. While she was plotting, he was reading the news she received this morning.

The timing suddenly made sense––why Sakura's proposal was approved now, of all times, after months of silence. Of course she could not go with him, if building the facility meant protecting and caring for the lives of Konoha's children.

"We haven't had much time," Sakura started, but her throat closed. He was supposed to stay. Why did he have to go again?

"Finish your work," he said. "Then I'll find you."

"Where will I be?" Sakura asked, because a glint was growing in Sasuke's eyes. This happened sometimes, whenever he knew something she didn't. It happened last week when Sakura had brought home an abandoned black kitten, naming her Hime after the dignified way she perched upon Sasuke's shoulder. It happened when she had pulled away from their first kiss.

Sasuke passed something into her hand. A pebble the shape of old dreams, of crashing waves and salt.

He asked, "Have you ever thought about going to the ocean?"

.

.

SUMMER AGAIN

Sasuke was gone, yet he was here again, in the dark of Sakura's bedroom.

"I'll be with you soon," he promised, after kissing her.

Before he left, Sasuke had recounted every detail he could remember about what Sakura should expect at the ocean––every rejected cup of tea, every question. But he hadn't told her about this.

Sakura understood why. When living out of order, some knowledge could not be disclosed. It was too precious, or too painful. Some things were best left for discovery.  
.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:  
> Everything comes together.
> 
> Notes:  
> where the daylight begins by ohwhatsherface inspired the sentence about lifelines.  
> thank you for reading :)


	8. roots

**pt 8: roots**

* * *

"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"

"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.

"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.

Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.

"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"

Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."

The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.

"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."

"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.

Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."

When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.

"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.

Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.

"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"

Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.

"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.

" _Ogenkide_ ," she whispered to her friend. _Be well even if I don't see you_.

.

.

The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.

Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.

For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.

Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.

A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.

Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.

One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.

Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.

.

.

As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.

First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.

Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.

Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.

One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.

Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.

Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.

In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.

.

.

Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.

"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."

Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."

" _How_ do you know?"

"I know because you told me."

The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, _Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for._

"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.

He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.

Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.

The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.

Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.

Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."

A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.

"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."

Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.

When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.

He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.

Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."

When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.

All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.

.

.

In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.

Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.

It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.

Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."

"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."

"One last trip, then."

Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.

Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."

Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.

Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.

The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.

"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"

"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."

To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.

"You know something. Don't you?"

"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."

He whispered it in Sakura's ear.

.

.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.

The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.

A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.

"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."

"You're not Sakura," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Who are you, then?"

"Sarada."

He remembered this name from a dream.

"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.

Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."

Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.

The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.

"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."

He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.

.

.

.

.

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want--and at the end the ocean will be waiting.
> 
> thank you to:  
> ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku  
> \--my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story  
> \--my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write  
> \--every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?) 
> 
> and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you!  
> roya


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